Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Cyprus and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing R.M.O. to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Sherman,
Eurythmics,
The Victims,
Mars,
Boz Scaggs,
David Bowie,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roger Hodgson,
Alton Ellis,
Andrew Hill,
Scientists,
Y Pants,
the Slits,
Jacques Brel,
Symarip,
Panda Bear,
Cluster,
Subhumans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Christie,
Carl Craig,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Whodini,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
The Evens,
Camouflage,
the Bar-Kays,
Dennis Brown,
Easy Going,
Icehouse,
Vainqueur,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Al Stewart,
Kas Product,
Anakelly,
Banda Bassotti,
Soul Sonic Force,
Susan Cadogan,
Donald Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
John Foxx,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultimate Spinach,
Theoretical Girls,
The Last Poets,
Blake Baxter,
Excepter,
Peter and Kerry,
the Swans,
Minny Pops,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-101,
Q and Not U,
Nas,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.